Dying
by skulblaka222
Summary: It’s 1918 and Edward Masen is a sixteen nearly seventeen year old, who like every other man, wants to join the war for his country and for the glory. That is until his father, falls ill with Spanish flu. The story of how Edward died and became a Cullen.
1. Prolouge

A/N: My first Twilight Fanfic, I've always wanted to write about Edward

**A/N: **My first Twilight Fanfic, I've always wanted to write about Edward. I'd appreciate any ideas comments, reviews, support ect. Like should I continue with it or not? (I will anyway coz it's so much fun!) Oh and before you say 'whats with the random guy? He has no point?!' I wanted to show a different perspective on the war and on Edward than our main characters.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Twilight, unfortunately.

**Summary:** It's 1918 and Edward Mason is a sixteen nearly seventeen year old, who like every other young man/ teenager, wants to join the war for his country and for the glory. That is until his father, who will hear no nonsense about the war with a family to look after, is one of the first of many, to contract Spanish influenza, the pandemic that is about sweep across Chicago and change his life forever.

**Prologue **

_Third Person (some random)_

A man in uniform stumbled along the cobbled streets of Chicago from where his horse was waiting. He awkwardly pulled a thick sheet of paper from his satchel and managed a one handed mounting on the already covered wall of posters that beared the similar messages. The dull monochrome colours shouted their purpose in bold letterform.

"Join the war, help the allies", "America wants you", "want to see the world and become a war patron and make your country proud? Join the men in the trenches alongside our allies" and "help America's son's to win the war." And the others that announced "Hun or Home Buy more liberty bonds."

As soon as he had finished, he moved onto the next wall, doing his duty, calling all the men to war. He moved to his next destination leading his horse laden with artillery and posters all bearing the same message. The man paused in front of a shop, not looking to see its name and wondered how many innocent men he was wrenching away from their proud families, how many he was killing. He shook his head to clear it of the depressing sights he had seen on the front. _They are brave enough to do their duty to their country, unlike me_. He thought, the many hideous and mangled faces of his comrades, shooting across his memory. _I should be out there…_ he thought, _but I am not brave…_

"Excuse me?" a smooth, but excited voice interrupted, merely a teenager, too young to fight. The solider turned to look at the teenager, sadly, another sucked in by the war.

"Where are they holding the registration for the front?" he continued excitedly, ignoring the depressed look on the man's face.

The man sighed then replied, "nice try kid, how old are you? Eighteen?" he laughed sourly, " The point is you're not old enough to join up, wait until your twenty one."

The man began to walk away. " It doesn't matter, my age that is," the teenager said smiling "as long as I can fight, to help my country and the allies…" he trailed off, a fierce edge and determination to his voice. This kid was used to getting his way.

The solider turned, smiling sourly again, "I like your courage … what's your name?" he trailed off. "Edward… Edward Mason." The man continued, "well Edward, at least you want to go for the right reason, I wouldn't encourage you to go, as like mine, most war stories don't end …" he stopped seeing the excitement fade instantly into desperation, _lord how'd he do that?_ As the boy looked up through his lashes, pleading silently, as if it was the only thing he had left.The soldier thought. "Well I guess son if you're that desperate I know a man that can help you get in…" Edward smiled enthusiastically. "Excellent."

Edward's POV

I walked down the street past the thinning crowd, towards home.

Unconsciously I examined the passer-by's expressions, dissecting from what I could see on their faces into what they seemed to be thinking. A worried, middle classed woman walked swiftly past pulling two children behind. She looked as if she was worrying about a husband that had gone away to war… I tried to clear my head, to not think about the woman, I could not read their minds. I was being unreasonable again. She could be just worrying about something else, like the Spanish influenza reaching Chicago, I laughed silently at that, (as if after all the governments precautions after the Kansas outbreak!) or maybe just how late it was…

I cursed silently to myself. I had got myself so caught up with the glory of going to war, I had forgotten to escort Lillian-Rose, the girl that it seemed I had only met yesterday, to my parents for their approval. The girl, I loved dearly, the girl I wanted to marry. Just thinking about her brought her face into my mind, her beautiful sapphire eyes and her soft brown hair and the way her dimples formed when she smiled, it seemed for me. I quickened my pace cursing again at how it could have slipped my memory… and remembering the war, a new set of pictures forming in my mind, as I imagined my self in the crisp uniform, rifle at my side. She would understand, Lily, she would know me enough to let me part shortly after I had her bound to me. That was my one promise to her; to marry her, tie her in the only way I knew possible to me. On the other hand, would she? Should I wait, so not to disappoint her if I didn't return? I wanted many things, but to make her a widow was not one of them, I couldn't live with myself if I disappointed her in that way. However, I thought to myself, I couldn't risk getting married after the war, to return to find her on the arm of another. I brushed the morbid thoughts from my mind, letting my doubt fade as I knocked on her door. Happy thoughts entering my mind instead as I glimpsed her relieved face behind the arm of her maid, and I knew I was forgiven. "Edward Mason?" the maid asked timidly.

Lily chatted about her day to me, highlighting how boring it was without me, by her side. I sighed, agreeing. She was making it harder for me to leave, to do what was right for my country. To be selfish and get what I want, but my guilty conscious wouldn't let me dreg up such thoughts. Especially when my best friend's face, flew into my mind, covered in gauze, mud and crimson blood from his injuries, the last picture of him I had imprinted on my mind.

He had been rushed from the front line to home, a war hero. Will, my best friend, only nineteen when he had rushed off to war, unconcerned of his welfare, unlike me at the time. He had been asked to lead his team in a suicide mission after his general had been shot, to give the soldiers a chance to advance. Just those small metres… In the mission, all his men had been shot dead in the first couple of minutes, except his best friend and comrade, Jared, who had held his back. They fought bravely, by some small miracle, dodging every bullet. _Their luck had to run out sometime. _I thought bitterly, remembering.

Jared had tripped over a fallen comrade in the charge. Will, a loyal friend had jumped in front of him to protect him while he scrambled to his feet. He had died in hospital, not long after he had been delivered home.

"Edward!" Lily complained, when I had missed what she was saying. "Sorry my love." I apologised sincerely, with a hint of sarcasm in my voice. " I got distracted." She sighed and began her story again, ignoring my marred sarcasm.

I tried to listen, nod at the right points and answering her questions as I watched the street around me darken. We were nearly at my family's home and shop. The windows off the other shops reflected the sun setting over the dull clouds as I walked through the ally way, Lillian on my arm. We passed by the old bar. It's battered door nearly falling off its hinges, swung gently in the still air as we passed it. Lily was nearly at the peak of her tale when the door slammed open behind us, and the noise of somebody being hauled onto the street. I grabbed Lilly's arm harder and started to lead her away as quickly as I could without attracting notice of the stranger. Ignoring her complaints. " The Turks are coming!" said a crazed voice, grabbing hold of Lily's right arm. She screamed, it piercing the almost silent night. The man was wearing a torn and blood spotted uniform and a mad look in his eyes, holding onto her dress. Shell shock, I thought. This man had obviously been brought home after going mad with trenches and gunshots blaring the night. "What are you doing!? Standing there!" he attempted to pull Lily away, I pulled her behind me. " We are all going to die, there is no hope!" he shouted, mutterings accelerating at places and rising in volume in others. "Not safe, not safe, we are all going to die…" he whispered, pleading in his crazed eyes as he passed on the message. I watched the man being dragged away by armed soldiers, holding Lily as she sobbed quietly into my jacket.

It was pitch black, and the lamp in the street flickered, sending shadows onto the windows of the shops. I had taken Lily home, instead of introducing her, as she was not in the best condition to meet my parents after the mad man had been dragged away, shots echoing in the distance.

For the second time that night I was nearly home, it felt like deja vu. I shuddered, pushing the negative thoughts from my mind. The wind rustled the paper-strewn street, autumn leaves dancing in the darkened dank air. I heard something hit the tiles of a roof above me. My eyes darted up to the source of the noise searching. Topaz coloured eyes stared down at me from a large body… a human shaped body. I blinked trying to clear my head, I was imagining things again. When I had opened my eyes, it was gone. It was probably several cats, not a _human_! I laughed at myself for being so stupid. However, as I reached home I couldn't shake the image from my head.

I was so preoccupied with my fantasies, I did not realise the unusual silence in the house until it was too late.

I heard footsteps run into the hallway, "can you confirm?" asked a strained voice. "Yes," replied a solemn, but smooth, velvet like voice, " he has it," Worried I ran into the room, "Edward, do not come in!" my mother called. "it's not safe!" she screamed. That was when my eyes focused on my father, sprawled on the floor, screaming in mute agony. I recognised the signs from the papers, the warning pamphlets, my father Edward Anthony Mason Sr. had the Spanish Flu.

A/N Now onto the more interesting chapters of becoming a vampire and dying. Please review and tell me what you think!


	2. Symptoms

A/N: Ok sorry it took so long for me to update but I have been really busy

**A/N:** Ok sorry it took so long for me to update but I have been really busy. And I mean REALLY BUSY. Thanks for the reviews and story alerts from everyone and I hope you enjoy the second chapter to Edward's Story. We now delve into life in quarantine for the remaining Masons. Please review, and I would love constructive critism, as it is still my first twilight story.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Twilight or Stephenie's magnificent characters but I do own Lily. Plus who doesn't love to mess with their favourite characters stories! 

_Edward's POV_

"Mam!" a voice shouted over my mother's pleading cries for mercy. " We cannot give your son exceptions." Elizabeth Mason, my proud strong mother, was literally on her knees. "Please!" she pleaded her fierce emerald eyes brimming over with tears. "He wasn't here long enough!" she said. However, the councilman just shook his head. " I am truly sorry Mam but you and your son are to be quarantined until it is deemed you are safe." He said, his voice gruff and weary, "we don't want a epidemic like Kansas."

Mother put her hands together, gesturing to the heavens, to our god. "Please" she said softly, her voice breaking. The man shook his head, "I'm Sorry, truly I am." He said, departing quickly. Eager to be out of our company, taking Edward Mason Sr. with him.

Leaving my Mother and I locked in a broken household, grieving. The young blond doctor who was assisting him turned to take one more tortured look in our direction and then left, a deep sadness on his youthful face.

The silence echoed throughout the house, except for the hysterical cries of Elizabeth Mason. I thought I should comfort her; tell her everything would be ok. However when I strode over to her, midway from reaching out to her and embracing her… "No!" she shouted her voice thick with strain and worry. I recoiled hurt, and took a stop forward my arms outstretched. " No Edward." She whispered this time, her voice breaking. " I've spent more time around your father than you have." She explained gently smiling, but I could see the pain in her emerald eyes as she continued, " I am more at risk, I do not want… no I could not stand another of my men being taken away from me." She said, "especially not my baby…"

The rest of the night was spent in our separate parts of our relatively small house. My mother being very systematic had divided the house into to two sections, the side with my room, which she deemed safe and the side with her and father's bedroom and small study.

I sat by a dimming oil lamp, head in my hands. It had been a relatively normal day, maybe even a happy day… until the disease had turned my mother's world and mine inside out. What was even more worrying was that even that small amount of time I had spent with Lily. That one hour that I had walked her to meet my parents, I had held her close as she cried over her traumatic experience… if I had even a trace of it she would be in the same position as my father in a few days. I couldn't suppress the shudder as I thought of the consequences I had imposed on my life. On Chicago's life in general, whose family would be remembered for the first to catch the deadly flu? I felt disgusted to even have thought Lily would be sharing the same last name as mine.

Even if we did survive though it all, would she still take me? Surly not after we were broke and homeless our house burnt to rid of horrid burden we beared. Maybe that woman that I had noticed on the street this afternoon was right to worry. _If that was what she was worried about. _I reminded myself. It was like the plagues of old, once on the wind it could not be stopped. In fact, how many had I infected while merely walking through the street? A horrible guilt washed over me, as well as a heavy cloud of disappointment, as I realised I had lost my chance to go to war.

For the next couple of days I couldn't sit still, I paced my side of the imaginary line, watching my mother get thinner and paler as she worried about my father's fate. Every night as I lay awake for hours, she cried when she thought I was asleep. Inside I cried with her. The news we had heard was not good. The flu had spread and Chicago now had ten casualties, and families like ours were being quarantined off. Even more worse still, was that my father was dying; he had a frequent fever and was deliourious. However the worst news had come this morning, a letter had arrived, pushed under our bolted door. I had listened as the deliverer sprinted away and picked up the heavy paper. It was tear stained, and the hand was shaky. I struggled through the clouded pain in my head, as I read.

_My Dear Edward,_

_A day after I last saw you my mother came down with Spanish Influenza. _

_I am starting to feel hot and develop the symptoms as well. I am afraid this may be the last time I contact you, until we get through this. Please do not try to visit me; I do not want to see you unwell. I Love you, as I know you love me, and I always will, no matter what may befall us. Please stay strong for me. Look after my heart and my soul; I've left it with you. _

_All my love,_

_Your Lily _

My heart stopped abruptly.

As the dwelling of what I had done set upon me and froze me to the spot with grief.

I had brought this upon us, I had hurt my Lily and made her unwell, I was a monster.

I felt a tightening in my chest as the pain over took my whole being; I was responsible for her death. And then I coughed.

Two more days passed and nothing had passed between my mother and I. she sat in the corner, pale and quiet, but not sick. I sat on my bed, hiding from her a dry cough and an ear-splitting headache, which even the silence could not relieve. I now spent most of my days in bed chills creeping up my arms even with the thickest blankets draped over my weaking body. I did not want my mother to stress; it was most likely a cold. At least, that's what I told my self. Though when the pain became unbearable, and a single drop of scarlet blood came out onto the handkerchief I was using for my nose, I knew it was a little more than a cold. However, I would not and could not admit it to my mother or myself. So, my body screamed silently in pain as I attempted to hide it. Elizabeth was right to separate us, it hadn't been her, it had been me all along. "Edward?" my mother called. Her voice hoarse, I tried to will my aching body to answer her, but when I tried it pressed in on me further. Swallowing me, drowning me in its depths. "Edward?" she called her voice fraught with worry. _Where is my baby? Surly he does not have it...he will be so upset about Lillian… but I need to tell him, after all this I cannot lie to him._ I heard her say quietly to herself. However, it couldn't be, it sounded so loud inside my head, rushing through my brain and wrenching at it. I tried to sit up. She wouldn't say that aloud and what had happened to Lily? It dawned on me. _He will be so upset about Lillian…_ my mother's words echoed in my throbbing head. I tried to wrap my thoughts around the inevitable consequence, which I had foreseen. The pale skin of my love cold and sapphire eyes glazed. It overwhelmed me with grief, I could not hold onto my consciousness any more. I let go of all my defences, the blackness took me into its grasp, and I drifted, the pain numbing, hanging onto the surface by a thread.

_Elizabeth Mason's POV_

I rushed into the room, the sound of my thoughts blocked out by my son's groans of pain. It could not be true. I thought fighting tears. Why couldn't it me, why did god have to take my sins out against him. The goodness and innocence that shined out of him, shouldn't that have been enough for him to be spared? I coughed loudly, my heading spinning as I rushed into his dimly lit room. He was lying on his side, his figure stiff and pale, slick with sweat. Even though his eyes were closed, they burned with a small fever, flickering under his eyelids as he fought to stay awake.

My stomach bubbled at the sight of him. I thoughtlessly grabbed a hand towel and washbasin from his nightstand and went to sit beside him, tears cascading over my cheek as I dabbed his burning forehead. My hands fluttered uselessly over his body, I could not do anything, and I just prayed that the councilman would be here soon to help me carry him to the wards, the eleventh patient. I myself soon to be the twelfth.

_Edward's POV_

I did not surface for a long time, I cringed away from the flames that licked at my body and hid further inside myself as the heat scorched me like being tossed into a live fire.

Every second it burned closer; I fought it back, trying to lift the darkness.

Suddenly coolness fought with me, smooth hands on my face pulled me to the surface, as I floundered and opened my eyes. A pair of blurry golden ones stared back at me, a worried look about his face as he gently dabbed at my forehead. " It's good to see you awake Master Mason, you and your mother have been out for a while."


	3. Enter Carlisle Cullen

Authors note: Now we see Carlisle's perspective

**Authors note:** Now we see Carlisle's perspective. Please remember that it is starting to get chaotic, and some of the characters especially Edward is starting to go insane due to some symptoms. Sorry it took so long to write, but it was hard to get this chapter just right. It's a little shorter than the other chapters are. Please enjoy and review, thanks for all the reviews so far, and the subscriptions. They make me more determined to write. 

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Twilight or any of the characters, though, like most, I wish I did.

_Carlisle's POV_

I methodically let my eyes wander over the ward of the sick, my fifteen patients.

I walked instinctively over to Elizabeth, her husband Edward senior, and son Edward. Elizabeth had fallen asleep under deep fever trying to nurse her son from her bed. She lay awkwardly over him panting, her own bed empty. Edward senior lay to the left of her cot awake but in such pain and agony that he could not respond. I knew it was wrong to take preference for patients, but I could not help it. It was as if some enigma of the Mason family held me, and pulled me towards them, into their lives. I knew this preference would not help me with their passing, being too attached was dangerous. But then again, maybe these were the companions I had been seeking for the last two centuries… no. I would not damn them to the life of night. Elizabeth groaned softly, too soft for human ears, I could hear the thick beads of sweat rolling off her forehead. It helped distract me from the path my thoughts had taken. _Drip, Drip, Drip_. The noise of her life and her family's fading away with each bit of moisture that rolled off her pale face. She was hurting her chances of survival by looking after him. Nevertheless, I would not force them apart; I could not ignore the love that she held in her eyes for her beautiful and innocent son. She twitched again, looking extremely uncomfortable. I looked over my shoulder to make sure no one was about. My sharp eyes and senses revealed that the only ones in the room were the victims; all too delirious to believe anything they saw. I grabbed Elizabeth in my cold arms quickly and placed her gently in her own cot. I then grabbed the cloths two laid on the Mason men's forehead; Elizabeth's discarded as she struggled to her son's side. I dowsed them in the basin at the end of the beds then laid them on top of each forehead. Lastly on Edward senior. Edward senior was the worst. He had come in the first wave and was on his last breath, in the final stages. I could do nothing for him. Even my enhanced abilities could do nothing as I could clearly recognise the final stages. I felt so helpless and upset, that my gift could do nothing.

"Carlisle?" a gravely voice called from the door. It was my college and fellow doctor Garrett, who had decided -like I was pretending to do- stay with the contagious and risk getting ill as well. However, I knew that this human disease would not harm me, nothing did. I thought bitterly. My thoughts surprised me again; I had not felt suicidal for a very long time. I recovered myself in my few seconds pause that it had taken me to contemplate, so Garrett would not suspect me.

"Garrett, my friend," I greeted him with a rough, tired voice that I reserved for humans after a hard day at work. " What can I do for you?" my voice pulled off the charade with ease. He chuckled humourlessly, "Carlisle, you work too hard." He said. _Sometimes_, I thought to myself, _I don't think I work enough_. " It's way past your normal hours, you should go home, give your self a break. After all you won't be any good to anyone if you're tired." He said, "I'll take over." Right I said to myself, I'll just go home, wait eight hours, and then come back. " That's alright Garrett, I'll finish up here though." I turned back to the mason's and another wave of hopelessness and anger washed over me. Why couldn't I do anything?

That night I did not go home. I did not feel like pacing endlessly again waiting to run back to do what I could. I needed to distract myself. Not easily done when your mind can process several things at once.

I decided to go hunting, give myself over to my senses for a few hours. I cringed at the word hunting, though I had not tasted human blood myself, I still hated my existence.

As I ran lightly over the rooftops of Chicago, I felt my daily depression and guilt setting in. Even though Twilight was easiest for me, the time where my thirst waned and it wasn't too dark but not light enough for the humans to see me, it was the time that was the hardest for me emotionally. My natural compassion made me feel extremely guilty while I sat at home pacing or studying, doing nothing, while humans died of the disease and even more, the screams I heard every night as it spread and slipped through my weak grasp. Grinning at me, laughing in my face as I tried to stop it. Not even my cursed extra senses could help me. Yes, I could diagnose the situation but I could not do anything about it. I sighed one last time as I entered the dark surrounding trees of a nearby forest, and prepared myself for the hunt as a stray mountain lion stood ready to pounce on its prey, never suspecting that it was mine. I let my mind fill with the scent.

_Edward's POV_

I had risen from the horrible temperature a night after I had fallen, and woke in the uniform industrial coloured room, sweating profusely. The man with the golden eyes had turned out to be Dr Cullen who had treated my father. He had taken a liking to our family; no, he felt great pity for our family. I could see it behind his strange golden eyes. I would notice how his strange alien perfect pale face crumpled into pity every time he saw us. There was no hope, he knew this, and we were going to die. Lillian had been wrong again I wasn't the one in danger she had been when I had hugged her close to me that night, meaning to protect her, but really killing her quicker.

My Mother had also been wrong, it had not been her who was infected it had been me, and now she, because she refused to leave my side for a whole week. Waiting for the council to check up on us, tending to me, she had fallen ill with it too. Determined not to let it bother her. If I had been conscious or less delirious, I would have told her to stay away. Nevertheless, I couldn't, the fever had been building up for a week and it had released its fury in one force pulling me under, so I could not resurface.

She now had the flu. It was my entire fault; I had ruined so many lives… Lillian's Mother, my mother and I had even killed Lillian herself. My heart had shrunk so much in the last few days that I could hardly function. Nor were my body helping, as it was off fighting another war, the Spanish influenza. I felt like I had been ripped into two parts: body and soul. Even the simplest functions were hard as my lungs were so filled with fluid and heavy that I had to gasp to keep myself from falling under again. It was never enough. I could only stay awake for an hour at the most before my whole body collapsed under the pressure and the waves rose up to swallow me and burn me. Until Dr Cullen came back to save me from hell and help me up again. He was god's angel to keep me from falling into hell, my guardian angel. The one who forgave all my sins on the day he told me my Father had died in the first wave, in my own early stages. The one who told me of my condemnation to death without words.

When he came in again the next time, I was awake, barely, as he came to us first, always us. I realised that the night before he had moved my mother back to her bed, he had done what I could not do. I watched bleary eyed as he moved over my parents to me. He drenched a fresh towel in ice water and placed it across my blazing head, to keep the fire at bay. Then methodically he examined my body for new symptoms, the new stages.

" So how are we today Edward?" he asked calmly, trying to keep it light. My lips were dry and cracked and my throat raw and parched. So I merely nodded, closing my eyes to disguise the pain I felt in every limb. I took a deep breath and then stared into his… I nearly- despite my condition, - jumped and ran, because as I stared at him frozen, I could see my own emerald eyes reflected in his coal black ones. Only devil's eyes changed colour. I started rasping for breath, and tried to control my panic. It was a delusion and merely that, I had many before. Such as my Lily visiting me in the night, filling the room with sweet roses and asking me why... I pushed such memories from my mind. I was afraid to shut my eyes to see her beautiful face melt in front of me… I shuddered violently. It was a symptom just as the one man who had found me my sanity had told me. The one who was standing before me with darkened eyes. _Maybe I was a little closer to my theory of him being a bit more than merely human. _I thought. Insanity rang through my every word. Then the world closed over me again, but not before, I heard a piercing scream.


End file.
